


Shift the Blame

by nan



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dual Genitalia, Dubious Consent, Forced Intimacy, Hand Jobs, M/M, Manipulation, Oral Sex, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24710623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/pseuds/nan
Summary: Re: dubious consent: While Jon consents to everything, Elias is manipulating him and occasionally ignores his boundaries. It's pretty on par for canon but I thought I should mention it anyway!Hello leveilleurs! I hope you enjoy this fic! It was a lot of fun to write. :3
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	Shift the Blame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelit/gifts).



> Re: dubious consent: While Jon consents to everything, Elias is manipulating him and occasionally ignores his boundaries. It's pretty on par for canon but I thought I should mention it anyway! 
> 
> Hello leveilleurs! I hope you enjoy this fic! It was a lot of fun to write. :3

Jon awakens to find himself flushed and overheated, his pajamas clinging to his skin. Butterflies crawl low in his stomach and both his cock and his pussy _throb_. Groaning, he reaches for his phone and opens the calendar app. In all caps it reads “RENEW SUPPRESSANTS.” 

“Shit,” he mutters, dropping the phone on the bed and running his hands over his face. He’d been so busy at the Archive, trying to find _some_ order in the chaos that Gertrude Robinson had left behind, that he’d completely forgotten. It isn’t a surprise; the only reason he remembers to _eat_ is because Martin pesters him about it and that’s a daily requirement. His own biological needs are low on his priority list and this one simply slipped his mind completely. 

Jon sits up, sheets pooling in his lap, and scrubs his hands through his dark, curling hair. He’s not _prepared_ to take a day off. There’s simply too much to do and he didn’t have any notes or instructions for Tim, Sasha, and Martin. “I can’t stay home,” he mutters. Although he could, perhaps, work today and prepare lists for the three archive assistants to work on tomorrow. 

Heaving a sigh, Jon gets out of bed and undresses on his way to the shower, clothes trailing behind him. Later he'll be frustrated with himself for the mess but for now, he simply wants the relief of cool water on his skin. 

Getting to the Archive was an unpleasant but unremarkable ordeal, with just one untoward comment coming from a young Alpha who’d cowed immediately under Jon’s hateful gaze. Walking in, Jon makes for his office straight away, ignoring any ‘good mornings’ aimed his way. This behavior isn't terribly unusual so no one stopped to question him about it. Once he gets to his desk, he sits down and shudders. He’s not hard, at least, but he’s _wet_ , likely not enough to show through his trousers but enough to be uncomfortable. _Perfect_ , he thinks, shifting in his seat before reaching over and plucking a thin statement from the top of the pile. “No matter. I don’t have time to worry about this.” 

Clearing his throat, Jon pressed record on the tape recording. “Case number 0050324…” 

“Statement ends.” Jon presses the stop button and rocks back in his chair, his spine complaining sharply at how long he’d been sitting. He glances at the clock and winces; a few hours had passed without his knowledge. Reading statements always did this to him; sinking into the horrors that others felt, feeling it with them and being utterly unable to do or say anything to make it better. 

“It’s far better than fussing over my heat, at least,” he mutters, getting up and putting his hands on his lower back, stretching backwards until it cracked. “I should at least get some tea.” With that in mind, he heads towards the common area. Making his way to the kettle, he puts some water on and waits, reading a the post notes for the statement he’d just read. A clatter throws him and he glances up sharply at where Martin was frantically picking up some papers. 

“Martin, what on earth-”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Martin says, face red as he shuffles the mess in his hands. “I just...I thought I’d smelled something, I’m-” If possible his face reddens even further and Jon realizes abruptly what is the matter. 

“Oh, yes.” Jon clears his throat. “Yes, I’m...I apologize, I certainly...I’d forgotten about it.” 

“Forgotten? There’s our archivist, always thinking about the job,” Tim says, reaching over and steadying Martin. “Not very Omega of you, which I for one appreciate!” 

“I’m glad,” Jon says, the words dry as the desert. “I’ll have some work prepared for all of you for tomorrow. Needless to say, I will not be in.” 

“Roger that,” Tim says with a sharp salute and a wink, before casually rapping his knuckles against Martin’s shoulder. “Come on, pal, I need your help looking for a book.” 

“I, what? Okay…” 

Jon watches them leave before turning away and nearly bumping into Sasha.

“Sasha! Christ, why are you sneaking up on me?” Jon says, rubbing his forehead. “I suppose you heard what I told Martin and Tim? I’ll be preparing work for you three for tomorrow.” When he looks up at her, however, it doesn’t look like she’s heard anything he’s said. “Sasha?” 

Sasha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and Jon flushes. It's inappropriate to acknowledge someone's heat in such a way. He forgave Martin because Martin is an idiot but Sasha absolutely knows better. Before he can reprimand her, she opens her eyes and he immediately draws away. 

“Archivist…” she says, her voice slithery and unfamiliar. He’s never seen her react this way to an omega in heat before; she's typically one of the most controlled Alphas he’d ever met. _Perhaps the incidents with Jane Prentiss caused more repercussions than I’d originally thought_ , he thinks, edging backwards.

“Sasha,” he says sharply. “What’s come over you?” 

She smirks and reaches out to him but before she can touch him, someone clears their throat. 

“What’s this?” Elias asks, an eyebrow raised. “Jon, are you alright?” 

“Yes! Yes, I’m...fine,” Jon says, inching away from Sasha. 

“Good. When you have a moment, come to my office. We have some things to discuss. Sasha... “ His gaze swings to her. “I recall asking you to look up some information for me. Have you done so?”

“No...not yet.” 

“Well. I suppose there’s no time like the present, is there.” It's a carefully wrapped command and the two of them share a stare that Jon can't read but makes his heart pound. He's always assumed Elias was a Beta; the man never seemed interested in caring for others nor showboating about, but the way he stares down Sasha makes Jon think otherwise. Finally Sasha looks away, a frown on her face.

“Right. I’ll get on that.” 

Elias’ lips quirk up and he nods. “Good.” He looks to Jon. “I’ll be expecting you shortly.” He doesn’t leave, however, instead waiting for Sasha and Jon to do so. Jon finishes making his tea and quickly heads back to his office, feeling the weight of that gaze on his back.

Once Jon has settled his nerves and finished his tea, he heads up to Elias’ office. Knocking on the door, he waits for acknowledgement before entering, closing the door behind himself with a quiet click. 

“Ah, Jon. Please have a seat.” Elias gestures to the chair in front of his desk, never taking his eyes off his monitor. “I’ll be just a moment.” 

“Right.” Jon sits, refusing the urge to fidget. Not focusing on statements and the horrors within means his heat is much more _present_ on his mind and he can feel himself begin to get hotter, sweat beading at his brow, and feel wetness starting to pool in his underwear. _This can’t be just from not having anything else to focus on_ , he thinks. _I must be reacting to something_. “Sir-” 

“Jon, do you trust me?” 

It’s an unexpected question and Jon blinks. “I...suppose. What’s this about?” 

Elias finally looks at him and the weight of that heavy gaze feels like a blanket. “You’re in heat,” Elias says plainly. “What didn’t you stay home today?” 

“I...it’s only the first day. I wanted to have things prepared for my absence. Notes and orders and...and things.” It’s getting harder and harder to focus on what he’s trying to say. “I just wanted to make sure things could continue to run well in my absence.” 

“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t be able to handle things here without you?” 

“No, of course not,” Jon protests but halts when Elias holds up a hand. 

“Your dedication is admirable,” he says. “Your commitment to your post is why I selected _you_ to be my archivist. But surely you realize your presence is disruptive? Poor Martin is suffering, Tim is distracted, and Sasha...well.” 

Jon straightens himself up. “I was handling it,” he argues, though guilt looms. Guilt and that ever present _heat_. “I was...I should have just stayed in my office, I suppose.”

“My dear Jon,” Elias says and it takes Jon a moment to realize what Elias had called him. “That certainly wouldn’t be fair. No, it would have been best if you’d stayed home.” He shakes his head. “But there’s nothing to be done about that now.” 

“I could...go home now,” Jon says but as he tries to get up, his legs collapse beneath him. He’s _so wet_ and his face reddens. “Sir…” 

Elias cocks his head, his eyes growing dark. “No, I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be safe at all for you to head out like you are now.” 

“I don’t...it’s never happened like this before.” Jon feels humiliation course through him. “I-I…” 

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Elias says and when he stands up and comes around his desk, the intensity of Jon’s heat grows higher still. Elias reaches down and grips Jon’s chin gently, tilting his head back. “You couldn’t have foreseen this.” 

Jon catches his breath, eyes widening as he meets Elias’s stare. “You’re...you’re an Alpha,” he breathes.

“I am,” Elias says. “I had no idea I would have this affect on you. If I’d known, I would never have asked you to come to my office today.” 

“I...no, I should have stayed home, it was...it was stupid of me,” Jon says, unconsciously tilting his head to nuzzle against Elias’ hand. When he realizes what he’s doing, he jerks away. “I’m sorry, sir.” 

Elias smiles and it somehow feels both comforting and predatory. “Well aren’t we a pair, apologizing over basic biology. A ridiculous thing, really.” 

“Right.” Jon nods. “Right, I can just...I can go get my things and head home.” He moves to stand up and gets about halfway there before he collapses back into his seat, his knees trembling. “Shit,” he mutters. “I don’t...it’s _never_ been this bad on the first day. I’m...as soon as I-” He cuts himself off before he can say _as soon as I can walk_. “As soon as I’m _ready_ I’ll head home immediatel--” 

“No.” Elias’ voice is firm and lands like a blow. His voice softens. “If you’re this badly off now, how can you hope to assume you’ll be able to make it home?” 

“Well what do you _expect_ me to do?” Jon snaps, before immediately feeling badly about having done so. “I-” 

“I suggest,” Elias says, his voice deepening somewhat, “that you allow me to fuck you senseless on my desk.” 

Jon shudders, his pussy tightening and his cock hardening in his trousers. He stares up at Elias with up undisguised shock. “S-sir?” 

Elias reaches down and helps Jon to his feet, his grip on his upper arm firm. Standing, Elias has always been a few inches taller than Jon but now he feels absolute, his presence pressing against and inside of Jon. “I cannot help but feel your current state is my fault,” Elias says, his breath warm against Jon’s cheek. “And I feel it’s my responsibility to take care of you.” He curls a hand around the back of Jon’s neck, large and firm, and pulls him closer. “Will you allow me to deal this?” 

Jon’s panting against his face and as soon as he nods, Elias pulls him up for a kiss; it’s hard but still chaste, just a pressing of lips together. Jon’s unprepared for when Elias pushes him backwards onto his desk; it’s surprisingly empty and he lands on the dark, mahogany wood. Jon pushes himself up on his elbows, watching as Elias wrestles with the button and zipper of his trousers before pulling them down. 

He’s wet. He’d been wet all day and it had felt disgusting but Elias was taking deep breaths, and as soon as his trousers and pants were out of the way, he takes Jon’s ankles and spread them wide. His pupils are huge and dark as he stares down at Jon. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jon mutters, reaching down to cover himself up. “You don’t need to look-” 

“Stop,” Elias says harshly. As if to punish Jon’s impudence, he spreads his legs even wider and leans down to shoulder his way between his thighs. His breath is hot against Jon’s cunt. He reaches up and strokes Jon’s dick once, twice and Jon groans, tilting his head back. 

“Look at me.” 

Jon doesn’t want to, he feels too hot, too out of sorts, but he manages to, looking down where Elias is crouched between his thighs. Elias’ eyes are dark, his face hungry. He’s still gentle tugging at Jon’s dick. “You’re very lovely here, Jon,” he says before pressing his mouth against Jon’s cunt. Jon immediately throws his head back, a groan erupting from his throat. 

Elias laps at his clit, his tongue rolling around the nub before he sucks at it, his teeth just barely edging against it before moving lower to nibble at Jon’s lips. Jon moans, his hips pressing up against Elias and Elias pressing his mouth against his hole, open and tongue out like a passionate kiss. He’s making sloppy, sucking noises, punctuated with soft, hungry growls, and Jon can’t believe this is happening, that this is _Elias_ , stoic, controlled Elias. 

Suddenly strong hands grip behind his knees and push up, folding him in half on the desk and Jon groans at the uncomfortable position, his knees up near his ears, his hard cock leaking precome on himself. Elias looks down at him, mouth having never left his cunt, and maintains eye contact as he begins chewing and sucking at Jon anew. 

“E-Elias,” Jon moans. “I...I’m-” 

“Yes,” Elias hisses against him, one hand stroking his cock, the other effortlessly holding him up in that position. “Let me _see_ it, Jon, let me watch you come on your own face.” 

The demand is shocking and exhilarating and Jon groans and comes, unable to tilt his head and move to avoid his own spunk. It falls on his cheeks and lips and he can’t help but lick, taste his own seed. Elias drops him on the desk but Jon can barely protest the harsh treatment before he’s lapping up his spunk, getting to his mouth and diving in. The kiss is hot and deep, as if Elias is trying to catch what Jon had the audacity to taste. 

He pulls back and reaches down and Jon realizes that at some point Elias has undone his own trousers and his cock, heavy and hard, is free. Jon bites his lip, both afraid and enticed by it. “Elias…” 

“Hush,” Elias says. “I know you’re worried. You’ve never done this before-” 

“How in the bloody hell do you know tha-” 

“But I know what I’m doing,” Elias continues, ignoring Jon’s outrage.. “This is what you were made for.” He smiles and there’s something dark there, something completely unfamiliar. “You were made for me.” He leans over Jon, one hand braced on the desk near his shoulder. His cock knocks against the smooth slick of Jon’s cunt and he rubs the head over it, teasing his hole and parting his lips before sliding up against his clit and abdomen. It’s hot and teasing and Jon forgets his outrage, forgets about how humiliating this all is. He starts slowly, awkwardly lifting his hips up to meet Elias’ gentle thrusts. 

“Good,” Elias all but purrs, leaning down to take Jon’s mouth in a rough kiss at the same time as he finally starts breaching Jon’s cunt. He’s too big and Jon is too untried and Jon cries loudly into the kiss, hands reaching up to grip Elias’ shoulders. Elias continues to push into him, spreading him open wide and forcing a place inside for himself. When he is finally in as deep as he can go, he breaks the kiss and Jon pants against his face, face bright red, hair mussed, eyes teary. 

“There you go,” Elias says, reaching down to stroke Jon’s flaccid cock. It perks up with embarrassing ease, but Elias keeps his grip on it as he starts to move. Not so much thrusting as gently stirring up Jon’s insides. “Isn’t that better?” 

Jon is shaking. He knows he is and when he speaks he says, “I-I don’t know, I’ve, I’m…I don’t know.” It’s frightening, this level of intimacy, of having someone _inside of him_. 

“It is,” Elias says with such certainty that it must be true. He slowly pulls out and it feels weird, feels like his prick is taking Jon’s insides with it. “You need this, Jon.” He pushes back in with an absurd and embarrassing squelching sound. “See how wet you are?” 

It’s true. He’s _soaked_. He briefly thinks to apologize for staining Elias’ desk before Elias goes down on his elbows and thrusts back in, faster this time, and repeating the action again and again. Jon’s cock is bouncing against his abdomen and his cunt feels _too full_ and he can’t help but reach up and slide his arms under Elias’ shirt and up his back, trying to pull him closer. 

“You lovely thing,” Elias bites out before curling his forearm under Jon’s head and pulling him up for a frantic kiss. He nips at Jon’s mouth, his teeth threatening to tear at the tender flesh of his lips, and for a moment Jon wants him to, wants to bite him back, have their blood spill over their faces and down their throats. Wants to _see_ it. 

Elias seems to know his wish because he pulls back just enough to attack his throat, biting hard and worrying the meat between his teeth. It hurts but it feels good and Jon digs his fingers against Elias’ back and claws downward. He certainly doesn’t have the nails to do any real damage but it feels good, marking Elias back. 

Elias pulls back, lips stained with more blood than Jon was expecting. His eyes are dark and there’s something in them that Jon doesn’t recognize. “I knew you were it,” he whispers, voice raw, triumphant. “I knew as soon as you walked into the archive that you were exactly what I needed.” 

Jon doesn’t know what to say ⎯ _he_ certainly hadn’t felt anything like that ⎯ but he is saved from having to respond when Elias started thrusting harder, pushing him up the desk which each plunge. A bulge is forming at the base of Elias cock and each thrust has it pushing insistently at Jon's already stretched hole. Elias’ grip tightens around him and Jon knows what’s going to happen just before that bulge is forced in. 

“Fuuuuck,” he moans as he comes, pussy pulsating around the too big knot, cock making a mess on his stomach. Elias laughs breathlessly, gaze never leaving Jon’s face, hips knocking against Jon as he fills him up and Jon feels too hot, too _full_ , and he’s so satisfied by it. Elias rests his weight against him and that’s good too, that feeling of being surrounded and _known_ both inside and out. 

It’s good until it isn’t and Jon shifts, suddenly feeling shy and humiliated. “I’m...are we quite through? I’m certain I can make it home now.” 

Elias chuckles and cups his chin, forcing his head to tilt back until they’re eye to eye again. “We’re finished. For now,” he says and starts to pull out. Jon’s cunt seems to cling to him and once he’s out, Jon knows his pussy looks raw and gaping. Elias reaches for some tissues.

“I can do that,” he says but Elias ignores him, eyes riveted on Jon as he wipes. Jon can hardly bear the thought of being wiped like a _child_ and he closes his legs, twisting to one side and sitting up. “I said I can do it,” he says, flushing as he sees how much fluid is on Elias’ desk. “You don’t need to take care of me.” 

Eyebrows raised, Elias stands, hip resting on the desk as he surveys Jon. “But that’s exactly what I just did,” he says plainly. 

Jon scowls and hops off the desk. He starts to pull on his clothes with angry, jerking motions. “Right and I thank you kindly for that.” He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it out of the Archives without drawing unwanted attention. As he runs his fingers through his hair to regain some semblance of order, Elias stands and cups his cheek. 

“You’re entirely welcome,” he says, a slow smile stretching across his lips. “If ever you need any more help like this, you know who to ask.”

Jon looks away from him. H could admit, if only to himself, that it was very good and he wouldn’t mind having a go again. As if Elias can read his mind, his smile broadens. 

“What if I come by your place tonight then? Just to check up, of course,” he says. 

Jon hesitates before nodding briefly. He scowls at the kiss Elias presses against his cheek and heads for the door, eager to get out of this too intimate situation. 

“Oh, Jon?”

“What?” he spits out, turning to look back at Elias. 

Elias is grinning now, leaning against his desk and preening like a king to his court. “You’re leaking.”


End file.
